A morning walk through the Master-of-Nets Garden

The Master-of-Nets Garden (Wǎngshī Yuán) at 7:30 in the morning. The sun is rising above the high walls of the garden. Originally from the Southern Song Dynasty in the 1100s, is has been rebuilt several times through the centuries. Its original name was the Hermit Fisherman Garden, which refers to the owner's retreat from the social life into the natural world.  Built as an abode for an aristocratic family, this small but elegant garden complex is considered one of the most exquisite of its size and type.

 

The gardens of Suzhou have centuries of history behind them and there is no way of compressing it into blog-sized posts... So I just thought of walking you through the gardens, with small notes on each picture.

 

I didn't expect to be affected by the gardens of Suzhou as much as I did; their restrained, highly disciplined sophistication definitely struck an unforeseen chord inside me. To be so tightly, intellectually composed - every single stone, plant, window and piece of woodwork has its meaning and place in the garden - and still radiating such serene tranquility and harmony is a lesson in garden making that I won't be forgetting soon.

 

A paving depicting a crane and a branch of pine in a little courtyard leading to Tiyun Room (Room of Cloud Ladder) seen below. The crane and the pine each symbolize long life. They also symbolize conjugal fidelity: the crane mates for life, and pine needles fall from the tree in pairs.
 

You can reach a study on the second floor by climbing up the rockery under it. The name of the house refers to a poem verse of "climbing up the ladder of cloud to reach the moon".

 

To understand these gardens, it is important to study the philosophy behind them deriving from ancient Chinese culture - the principles taught in I Ching and by Taoism and Confucianism, and their related expressions in painting and poetry. I've been spending time trying to grasp this universe of teachings, but of course, my learning is still very limited.  What I would love to mention is that these gardens were not constructed to copy the beauty of nature as it is, but to master the forms and to explore the Tao embedded in them. As Hu Jie mentions in his excellent book The Splendid Chinese Garden - Origins, Aesthetics and Architecture, the Chinese believe that all visible phenomena in nature represent the principle of Tao, and can thus become objects of art and have artistic value. So the "nature" in Chinese gardens is not simply a copied miniature of real mountains and waters, but a world that has experienced human construction, generalizing, processing and refining, and thus represents the supreme spiritual realm of the natural world as a "condensed mini-universe in human embrace", as Hu Jie puts it. And so they felt, complete in their own beauty and serenity, offering new delightful views and sights behind every unfolding nook and corner.
 

 

Climbing in an out of the rockeries resembling mountains. Confucius wrote that "the wise likes water, while the benevolent likes mountains"; in Chinese garden art the mountain is considered as benevolent, silent and everlasting, and thus an inspiration for human thought.

 

 "The Watching Pines and Appreciating Paintings Studio" - watching evergreen pines in the winter had metaphorical associations, and "appreciating paintings" referred to being able to read and gain understading of paintings as pictorial records of philosophic thoughts and concepts.

 

In and out from the studio; a view through latticed doors and a moongate all the way to the Rose Cloud Pool that forms the center of the garden.

 

First rays of sun climbing over the high walls to an enclosed courtyard by the Wu Feng Study, with a carefully orchestrated scenery of rocks, grasses, osmanthus and tree peonies. A great example of how in Chinese garden art, even the smallest of spaces can feel indefinite, as they a built like condenced miniature worlds and sceneries.

 

Beautiful woodwork and latticed windows; I love the way the columns stand on a rounded stone.

 

Inside the Dianchun Yi Study; borrowed views through windows are a key element in Chinese garden design.

 

Another study; unfortunately, I lost my notes for which one, but I thought this would be a perfect study for a "gentleman" writing poetry about bamboo or some other masculine subject...

 

A covered pathway leading to Gallery of Osmathus Clusters on Hill - the roofs provide shade in summer and protect from rain in winter.

 

Sheya corridor and the central pond called the Rosy Cloud Pool; the corridor was named after a duck shooting game that was popular among the maidens serving in the royal palaces in the ancient times. The Moon Comes with Breeze pavilion with a lantern on the right.

 

The Pavilion for Washing Cap-Ribbon on the left, and the The Moon Comes with Breeze pavilion with a lantern again on the right.

 

Walking around the central pond that feel much larger than its size (it is only about 330 sqm); and yet another view of the The Moon Comes with Breeze pavilion.

 

Several carved windows both connect and separate the different courtyards of the garden, and always provide carefully thought-of views for the garden wanderer.

 

Elaborate stones from Lake Taihu by the Pavilion of Cold Spring; these stones were especially appreciated for their imaginative forms and in the end became so popular that craftsmen started chiseling copies of them by hand. Carved windows extend the garden beyond the walls.

 

A champion bridge. I leave you with a picture of a small stone bridge in the southeastern part of the pond that I photographed quite accidentally. Only afterwards I noticed it in Hu Jie's book, with a note that "it is so exquisite that it is ranked as a champion among all smallscaled bridges in all the gardens of Suzhou". Honestly, I would never have guessed. There is so much to know and to understand, and it would take years to really learn to appreciate these gardens as the true connoisseurs do. But even with my limited knowledge, I do enjoy their quiet elegance and charm.

 

Back from Suzhou

"It's a lot of bamboo..." - I met this little fairy in the Garden of Cultivation, my favorite of all the gardens I saw in Suzhou last week. She tripped quietly in and out of the garden rooms, and looked at me with her dark eyes, contemplating where I came from and what I was doing in "her" garden.

 

My week in Suzhou was amazing, and exhausting. The whole trip was quite unplanned - I had wanted to see the ancient gardens for years, and all of a sudden, there seemed to be a suitable space in the family calendars, so I booked my tickets and hotel with two weeks notice. Of course, I missed checking what the Chinese were up to that particular week, and got to experience first hand how it feels to be a vacation with about half a billion of them at the same time. China Daily reported that about 760 million trips were taken within the country during that single week (they probably count even bikes... but still), and asked those "not needing to travel" to stay home instead.

 

Narrow lanes and waterways of Suzhou, the "Venice of the Far East" - balconies over the canals and beautiful, old latticed windows meet the modern aircon, barely hidden by the greenery. 

 

Instead of panicking, I decided to take this as a learning experience about how it is to live in the world's most populous country. So there I was, queuing at 7:15 AM with the earliest of birds to get into the most famous gardens that are included in UNESCO's World Heritage List and also graded as Grade AAAAA on list of Chinese National Tourist Attractions. Of those, the Garden of the Humble Administrator, Lingering Garden and the Canglang Pavilion seemed to be on everybody's to-do list. As I soon learned, waiting any later would have meant several hours of waiting time... As it was, I got in relatively easily, but was soon caught up by countless determined tourist groups, all with guides holding up flags and shouting their messages over the sea of heads. Almost all of them were Chinese; only in the Humble Administrator's Garden did I meet an Italian group, all of whom looked quite resigned over the commotion.  

The past meets the present - a little boy sits in the ancient tea house assembling a model of an aircraft carrier, the most recent purchase of China's military that was so proudly reported by the daily news while I was there...

 

The smaller gardens, accessible only through narrow, winding lanes and thus out of reach for the large tour buses, offered a respite from the crowds. It was in them that I spent hours, sipping my jasmine tea in the shade of the pavilions. While I could almost hear the Humble Administrator cry over the hordes climbing over his carefully installed rockeries and precious moutan plantings, it was in these small, intimate gardens that I felt close to their ancient inhabitants, and could imagine the soft sounds of the daily occupations - the clicking of the board games played by the women, the scholar's soft brush flying over his scroll, and the quiet rustle of the bamboo gently stirred up by the wind. What an amazing culture to have produced such sophisticated expressions of thought.

 

So now I have about 800 photos from my trip and need to go through and decide what to keep and what to show - not an easy task. I would love to be able to be able to give more than just an ordinary travel reports, but I'm not quite sure yet how. I guess I just have to work on it, and see how it goes - but for sure, there will be many posts from Suzhou in the coming days. 

On the way to China...

It's been a busy week. I've ben working on an article with a deadline on October 12th, about Jardín Etnobotánico de Oaxaca that I visited in February - an amazingly beautiful garden that tells the story of the Oaxacan peoples and cultures through plants they have cultivated and used during the last couple of millenniums. 

 

At the same time, I've been preparing a trip to Suzhou in China, which I am extremely excited about. Liu Lingering Garden, Master of Nets Garden, Lion Grove Garden and all the other, wonderful gardens in Suzhou - I can't believe I'll be there in just a couple of hours. I won't be blogging while in China, but expect an overload of Chinese garden pictures when I come back. Have a great gardening week.

 

 

HortPark in Singapore - a great idea to take after

Water garden at the entrance to the HortPark in Singapore. Over 600 000 visitors come here to learn about gardening and to see what over 40 local garden designers and 80 other related entrepreneurs can offer.

I just made a brief visit to the HortPark on Hyderabad Road in western Singapore, after having read about it in many sources from foreign articles to local gardening sites and magazines. Despite all the information, I didn't quite know what to expect, as I've never seen this kind of a "gardening hub" before. HortPark is part of the National Parks organisation here, but at the same time, it is a networking hub for local entrepreneurs working with things related to gardens and gardening, from designers to installation, maintenance and even retail.

Knowledge and creativity mingling with ideas for gardening and recycling - all of the designs and products above are available from private entrepreneurs who are participating in the HortPark. Hanging plants and terrarium making courses seem to be very popular for the moment, just as indoor green walls.

It was a hot midday when I popped by and the park was almost empty, besides some friendly employees and gardeners, and a couple of school classes strolling through the vegetable gardens with their heads protected from the stinging sun by large hats. In the stylish on-site restaurant fittingly called the Vineyard, young waiters dressed in black carried misty wineglasses to the patrons much more advanced in their years.

Many companies provide know-how and materials for green roofs and walls; here, green wall displays from eight different companies, and roofs by three others. Seminars and lessons are offered in the related technigues and on how to take care of them afterwards.

I hadn't booked neither a tour nor a guide, but I enjoyed much of what I saw. The design of both the park the buildings were refreshingly modern, with straight clean angels meeting elements composed of organic lines - not surprisingly, it has won several international architectural awards since its opening in 2008. State-of-the-art meeting venues mingled with quirky display gardens, retail displays selling everything from stylish pots to trendy terrariums and beyond.

Kitchen and community gardens are a big part of the HortPark; the National Parks Board wants to promote gardening as a hobby and a lifestyle choice. Believe it or not, vegetable gardening is very popular here and Community Clubs offer courses on kitchen gardening all around the busy island. Above left, beanpole tipis offer shade in the glaring sun, and right, a school class is learning about vegetable gardens.

Two designer gardens and two gardens planted by local community clubs - guess which are which.

While I visited, the whole place felt a bit empty, and some of designers seemed to be a bit too busy to keep up their display gardens. I still loved the whole idea of HortPark. It is rare to see this kind of happy combination of the governmental and the commercial, both co-habiting in the same park and feeding each other with ideas and probably even knowledge, and at the same time, offering the public an excellent opportunity to learn about gardening, be inspired by new ideas and even find who can provide the services or goods that are desired. Of course, Singapore's steady and tropical climate offers unique setting for year-around displays, which is difficult to replicate in colder climates. But still, I would love to see a similar project for example in Scandinavia, with the state stepping in with resources for the framework, and the garden designers and builders providing the fireworks with their creativity and knowledge. And as a customer, I would definitely love a well-designed park to stroll in and take in all the new ideas on offer. Ten points to Singapore's National Parks Board.

A dragon in a pottery jungle, endangered

The mouth of the dragon; this is the fire-box and it has an altar on the top. Before every firing, offerings of three kinds of living creatures -animals or seafood and wine and tea - are offered to the kiln god to ensure success.

A self-confessed pottery addict as I am, my heart jumped when I read that a two Dragon Kilns still exist in the outskirts of western Singapore. Sadly, both of them are now threatened by a huge new "tech city" nearby, so I decided to make a quick visit there, just in case. Singaporeans are quite effective at work, and that is not always positive - at least when it comes to this kind of development projects. 

Entrance to the dragon's belly... up to 5 000 items can be loaded in for a single firing.

Inside the dragon kiln; temperatures reach 1200 C when fired up, and the whole process of firing up and then cooling down the kiln takes about one week.

Salt-glazed tea cups made by local potters; salt is thrown into the warm kiln and it forms random glazing on the vessels.

Anyhow, after a serpentine ride through the dusty building site, I arrived to the Thow Kwang Pottery Jungle - Thow Kwang translating to "Pottery and Prosperity" - and jumped out from my taxi on a large field of randomly arranged pots in all imaginable sizes. The ramshackle sheds that house the huge kiln and the dusty, sprawling shop used to be surrounded by a lush jungle area complete with a potter's hut and a pond, but were now hemmed in by tall green plastic fences, with bulldozers behind razing their way through the vegetation making way for still another business development. Oh, to have a magic wand that stops this kind of madness from happening - when do  decision makers learn the value of our heritage?

The entrance - complete with a couple of Shishis - to the shop and pottery making area, giving a taste for things to come.

Now, this is my kind of a display shelf - just look at the urns and bowls bedecked with gourds, flowers and leaves. Amazing. I especially loved the urn with a lid in the lower right corner, such a soft form and color, even if it doesn't show properly in the picture.

The present owners hold pottery courses and other events in this lovely room facing the soon extinct jungle. 

An inspiring environment for making ceramics - I immediately felt like throwing a pot even if I don't know how.  

On arrival, I was greeted by the actual dragon with its mouth formed by a huge firing box facing towards the entrance. The kiln reaches a monumental 37 meters up a hill and the 'tail' of the dragon finishes off the structure towards what just recently used to be a jungle. When fired, smoke rises from the mouth and 17 stoke holes along the hill, making the kiln resemble a furious, fire-spitting dragon.

Inside the huge, sprawling shop - even chairman Mao rises his hand for a greeting in front of the variety of ceramics on offer.

A selection of gods and holy men - in all imaginable styles and colors. Just pick your favorite!

Ginger jars, garden stools and everything between... Those large blue and white, handpainted ceramic tiles hanging from the roof are in huge risk of decorating my bathroom, sometime & somewhere.

Dragon kilns originated in Chine some three millenniums ago and the technique of building and using them was bought to Singapore by Chinese immigrants in the early 1900s. There used to be ten of them on the island, all producing pots and other household items. Another important product was latex collecting cups for the rubber industry that was economically very important for the area. Demand for these items dried up in the 1970s and 80s when rubber was replaced by plastic and cheaper household imports from China flooded the market, so most of the kilns closed down. Only two remain, Thow Kwang and Guat Huan, and both are now used by local clay artists, but even they get fired quite seldom as the firing process is very long and labor intensive. Also, it takes time to accumulate enough works to make it worth the process - over 5 000 items can be fitted in the dragons belly at one single firing.

A quiet altar behind the shop, facing the jungle...

... with a jovial Buddha and a fellow wise man, both seemingly unaware of their uncertain future.

Pots and more pots, decomposing behind the shop and kiln; I forgot to ask what these vessels were, maybe latex cups from the past?

Today, Thow Kwang Pottery Jungle is still owned by the Tan family who originally built the kiln in the 1940s. Pottery and ceramics sold in the shop comes mainly from China - some new, some machine made, some hand painted, some antique - in a great variety of styles. I had planned to spend only an hour here, but ended up strolling the shady, labyrinthine pathways of the shop for almost three, finding new things to attract my attention behind every turn. This is definitely no place for strictly minimalistic types, but certainly a feast for those who enjoy the diversity of the Chinese aesthetics - a lush, visual jungle indeed. My only wish is that the local authorities wake up before it is too late, and that the dragon will be left alive together with its sibling nearby.

A plate from the selection of antiques - with a wonderfully whimsical pattern of ruffled little birds sitting by a cherry tree.

You know you are in the tropics when...

A banana bonsai (Musa sp.)- about half a meter high, and quite cute. No fruit in sight, though... 

bonsais come in the genus Musa... as in the Singapore Botanic Gardens collection. I've never encountered one before, but then, I can't really claim to be a bonsai or penjing expert either. This is an enjoyable little collection in a slightly too industrial pavilion (I think the bonsais looked a bit lonely on their perches), but well worth spending a while in.

The bonsai theater, or pavilion - and even if Singapore is very safe, it was guarded by many cameras, just in case...

A mini Chinese Banyan (Ficus macrocarpa); what a lovely tangle of air roots on a plate.

Wild water plum 'Sui Mai' (Wrightia religiosa) like a little island with huge trees.

And another tiered little Wrightia. I can't stand those white plastic signs, they stick in your eyes however much you try to ignore them.